Just Another DayA Story by jen -- JG
Just Another Day
A short story by jen-JG
"Bringgggg Bringgggg … Bringgggg Bringgggg" The insistent sound shattered my sleep. The door bell! Dragging my dressing gown across my shoulders, I stumble towards the front door. My fingers just touch the door handle when two boyish giggles erupted with "Stupid old bat, quick, I can hear her coming" and feet pounded towards the road. I wrenched the door open in time to see two kids from next door clear the dividing fence and scurry down the side path towards their back yard.
"Blasted kids!" I mutter, but smile anyway. I remember doing the same thing many years ago. Looks like it’s still a fun thing to do, so long as you’re not on the receiving end.
The sun felt warm on my face as I stood there admiring the garden Danny and I built together when we bought this house so many years ago. Our two children are now grown up and married with children and grandchildren of their own. They’re busy with work, school, and sports, going on holidays, and with all that ‘renovating’ they’re doing. I don’t see much of any of them these days. Oh, we talk on the phone, I usually call them but lately they seem too busy to talk for long. I did suggest they call me when they have time for a chat but it’s been a month now since I heard from anyone.
I saw the white rose buds and remembered how Danny smiled at me when he planted the last rose bush ten years ago now. My eyes brimmed with tears as I remembered that the first snow white rose bloomed a mere two days before my beloved Danny died in a car crash. I still miss him so very much.
The sight of a young couple with a baby moving in across the road momentarily catches my attention. They look friendly enough, maybe I’ll take over a plate of scones…better not, they’ll probably think I’m just nosey. Maybe I’ll do it later on.
With a sigh I walk inside, closing the door behind me. Seeing the phone on the hall table I lift the receiver to my ear, it’s working. I stand there, willing it to ring, but it doesn’t… so I head for the kitchen and fix breakfast for one. Danny’s presence is strongest here, and I talk to him every day. The children reckon I’ve gone balmy, but I believe he is still with me, and besides that, there is no one else to talk to.
Many years ago, my daughter made a tea cozy for me at school, and I slipped that onto the ancient teapot Danny and I picked up at a jumble sale. I ate my scrambled eggs and let my mind wander.
Maybe if I went out more I could find someone to talk to. Maybe not, everyone is so busy, even the girls at the checkouts look harried when I try to be pleasant and talk to them and everyone else seems to be rushing from one place to another. I know I see lots of people when I go out. Couples, groups, families, all laughing, all happy, all so YOUNG! I feel strange going into a café and sitting at a table for one. I sometimes think people don’t see me, that I’m invisible and sometimes I see pity in the eyes of someone who does look at me but I’m not game enough to speak first – and neither do they. I feel out of place, like I don’t belong somehow. I wish someone would take a moment to talk.
I never knew what being lonely felt like. There was Danny and our children; we always had something to do and somewhere to go. I remember wishing I could be alone sometimes, just to get a little bit of peace.
Well, I’ve got my wish now haven’t I? Here I am rattling around in our large empty family home, and waiting by a telephone that seldom rings. The only visitors I get are children who play "ring the bell and run" although I must admit getting to the door in time to see those kids jump the fence, was a bit of unexpected fun.
I’m alone, that’s true but I never thought of myself as being lonely, after all I have my house, my family, my garden, some friends – wait a minute, where’s Francie – oh she died, must have been four years ago now, no wonder I haven’t from her. Well, what about Brenda? Oh, that’s right she moved to Germany with her new husband just after Danny died. That’s funny I can’t remember any others, where did they all go? My hands feel the warmth radiating into my palms as I lift the cup and take a sip. My thoughts continue…
At least I have my family—they’re just a phone call away. Why doesn’t the phone ring? I get up from the table and walk into the hall then place the receiver against my ear, and comforted yet again by the tone, I look at the phone and whisper "Why not" then allow my fingers to dial.
I hear the phone ringing the other end and finally a distracted voice answers "Hello, hello"
"Hello Dorothy…
"Oh, it’s you Mum, sorry I can’t talk now, have to take Ben to work and… look I’ll call you later OK? "
"Dorothy, wait I …
"Sorry Mum, gotta go now, I’ll call you." I flinch at the click in my ear as she hangs up. I feel tears well as I replace the phone and walk back to the kitchen.
I am eighty years old today - and it looks like being just another day of being alone AND lonely…
©Copyright jen-JG 2nd September 2008
© 2008 jen -- JGAuthor's Note
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3 Reviews Added on September 3, 2008 Last Updated on September 3, 2008 Authorjen -- JGMelbourne, AustraliaAboutI enjoy reading, writing and watching movies. There are two adorable cats in our household who give us much pleasure. i enjoy writing poetry of most kinds, rhyme - open verse - and often anything a.. more..Writing
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